Heart of a Captive

by Hestand, Rita

  "Iron Kettle, couldn't we just wrap her up in a blanket or something, pretend she's dead?"

  "No…they would want to know why you take body with you, not bury Indian way."

  "Yeah, that's a better way. Bury her the Indian way, and we'll come back and get her after you and the soldiers are gone."

  "Good, we have ceremony for burial and put her on the scaffold. You come back and get her after we leave."

  "Can she survive on a scaffold for a day or two?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't want you to think I don't appreciate you offering me a wife. But, I've got too much work to do, to worry over a woman. Besides, she has a man waiting for her. It's not right, Iron Kettle. But I promise, I'll take her back to her people."

  Iron Kettle thrust his arms over his chest and turned away. "You sleep…tomorrow we bury her."

  "Won't she starve?" Cale insisted.

  "No, burial provides food for the next world, she may eat in the darkness, and when we leave."

  "Sounds like the best plan to me. All we gotta do is talk her into it."

  "She won't want to go with you, but I make."

  "She doesn't want to return to her people?" This news startled Cale for a moment. He'd heard of women who'd been captured that preferred to stay with the Indians rather than go back…and he remembered Hattie that Mr. Summers had talked about. Yes, he could see why some would not want to go. But he could take her to her people. Why wouldn't she want that?

  "No, she likes it here with us. She has become my daughter, my white daughter."

  "Then she's been protected all this time by you?" Cale insisted.

  "Yes, I protect."

  "And you are her father, now?"

  "Yes…"

  Hodge frowned.

  "Iron Kettle give to you. Must promise to take care of my white daughter."

  "Of course…" Cale nodded.

  Hodge crossed his arms over his chest.

  "If white man don't want her, you take?" Iron Kettle frowned at him.

  Cale sighed heavily. He bowed his head, and firmed his lips. "I'll take care of her."

  "Good."

  "Humph…"

  "Where is she?" Cale asked.

  "Sleep. Will talk tomorrow. Now…sleep."

  "Yes, we are very tired." Cale told him. "And even more so, now!"

  The chief gave him one of the teepee's to sleep in and they lay on the blankets. Cale couldn't go to sleep. He wasn't sure he was doing the right thing by stepping into this woman's life, but he could take her back to her betrothed. And that made him feel good. It was good she hadn't been with any of the warriors, too. She had to be a strong woman to stand up to the Comanche. He wondered how she ever survived it without being taken.

  He'd see she got home, and then he'd feel better himself.

  Hodge was already asleep.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning Cale woke to a mockingbird singing his heart out in the tree top. He opened one eye and searched the tree just outside the tent for the source. He couldn't spot it, but he heard it for at least a half hour before he decided it was useless to try to sleep any longer.

  Suddenly he smiled. "Good to know someone is happy in this world."

  Hodge was up and moving about.

  Most of the camp had come alive and Cale stretched as the morning sun peaked over the horizon. There were many trees, almost like a forest and the sound of the river and running water made music to the air.

  After a quick breakfast of jerky, he joined Iron Kettle who was helping tear down a teepee.

  "You moving out soon?" Cale asked him.

  "Two moons." Iron Kettle answered swiftly. "Have you decided if you will take the woman?"

  "It's not a question of taking her. But I still think burying her might be a better way of doing this." Cale injected. "Don't you agree?"

  Iron Kettle shrugged. "It is good my friend. She will go with you, we have spoken, but now you must meet her."

  "Iron Kettle…" Cale started to argue the point then realized that the old man had made up his mind about it. "Never mind." Cale shrugged. For a moment, he wanted to call this whole thing off. Why was he getting so involved in this? The woman wasn't his business. However, it might be the last time he saw Iron Kettle, and they had been friends a long time. He owed him for many things.

  Iron Kettle looked far off and waved a hand. A squaw nodded and brought out another squaw.

  Cale waited. When the girl came closer, he could see she wore a cover over her head, he figured that was so she wouldn't stand out amongst them with her blond hair.

  Just like her picture, she was lovely. Beneath the headdress was golden curls peaking about the edge, her face was flawless, her eyes the color of liquid warm whiskey. From the buckskin dress, he could tell she had curves in all the right places even though she was quite thin.

  "This is Cale, he will take you home." Iron Kettle informed her.

  "Home?" She twisted her head in question but still didn't look at Cale. The girl's mouth flew open. "But…I thought I was going with you…"

  "No, you will not be allowed on reservation. You must go. We spoke of this, and it is settled, you go with friend Cale and Hodge." Iron Kettle informed her. "We cannot keep you with us. You are white and they would demand you be taken away from us. We do not know what they might do with you. So you go with Cale. Cale is friend."

  Cale watched her closely. Her voice was sweet and lilting.

  "Am I to leave now?" She looked at Iron Kettle.

  "No, first we must have burial ceremony for you."

  "Bury me?" She shrieked.

  Cale watched as Iron Kettle explained the burial procedure to her. Her face mirrored some pain he couldn't define.

  "Why do you weep little one?" Iron Kettle touched her shoulder.

  "I will miss you…" She cried, "I had thought I could stay."

  "Reservation…not possible to go. You go with Cale after we bury you and he take you home."

  "Is there no other way?"

  He grunted. "Cale will take you to your homeland to be reunited with your people." Iron Kettle said quietly.

  For the first time the woman looked at Cale, and Cale felt a jolt of some kind. Her eyes said everything. She loved these people. Her sadness was genuine.

  He marveled at that love. Not many white women learned to love the Indian.

  He hadn't expected that, but it was there in her eyes, in her sadness. He hadn't expected her to want to stay with them. Yet after hearing Hattie Montgomery's story, he could almost understand it.

  "My name is Amelia…" She stretched a hand toward Cale. "If you are a friend of Iron Kettle, then you are a friend of mine, too."

  Cale took her hand, noting the callus on her hands. She hadn't been pampered. She was used to hard work.

  "Amelia Harrison?" He asked.

  Her head jerked about to stare into his face. "How did you know my name?"

  "Your fiancé put up a notice in the general store back home; it had your picture on it, like someone drew it." Cale informed her.

  "My fiancé?" She repeated dully.

  "Yes ma'am."

  Iron Kettle started to walk off but turned to her. "Go with him and talk, we will prepare you soon for your leaving."

  She nodded.

  They walked away from the camp, through the tall grasses and brush to the edge of the river. Sunflowers grew near the edge, tall and reaching for the sun. Amelia touched one. The river was low but moving along at an even pace. They stared out at it. It was peaceful here. The sound of the rippling water lulled the senses.

  Cale dropped his glance to the ground. "You don't want to leave them, do you?" Cale asked almost in a whisper.

  "They have been very good to me." She stiffened. "Like family. I liked living with them. They are a good people. I have learned much about farming and such from them. They have treated me like family."

  "Iron Kettle has been our friend a long time, too. And I don't suppose anyone wants
to leave the people they love."

  "I have not contemplated this day, friend Cale. I still don't know how to react to it. After so long, I thought no one would ever come fore me, ever say my name again."

  Cale's head jerked upward to stare into her sincere eyes. "This must be very hard for you then…"

  She nodded.

  "Our?"

  He twisted his head in confusion.

  "You said our friend…"

  "Hodge and me." He motioned to Hodge standing at another teepee and talking to Sarah Lightfeather.

  "Hodge lives with you?" She asked.

  "That's right. Do you know him?"

  "Not exactly, I know of him as Sarah is my friend. Do you live around here?" She asked almost anxiously.

  He noted how her demeanor changed at the mention of Hodge.

  "No ma'am about a hundred miles north from here. Where are you from?"

  She walked with him as they talked.

  "Originally Virginia, but my folks traveled west and were planning to settle in San Antonio."

  Cale studied her a moment. "How long ago were you captured?"

  "Nearly four years ago. I spent three of them with the Comanche, of which time I barely managed to survive. But hard times had them trading me to the Huaco's. Since then, my life has been very pleasant, as they treated me like a human being."

  Cale smiled. "Must have been hard with those Comanche's." Cale added. "I hear they are not as kind."

  "Yes." She said simply. "It was. I try to forget how it was with them."

  Cale nodded.

  "Now Miss I don't know your intended personally. I don't even know where to find him, but I will do my best to find him for you. And I'll take you back to him as fast as I can. I promise you."

  "Why would you bother?" Her voice held no excitement.

  "Because you belong with your people, you're a white woman and you've had a hard time. As Iron Kettle's friend I will see you are taken care of."

  "I need some time to consider this."

  "Of course. However, the decision to go with me has to be made very soon as they will be leaving in another day or two. I realize you've had a lot of adjustments to make, ma'am and I'm sorry about that. This is just another one."

  She looked uncomfortable. "What if my fiancé doesn't want me any longer?"

  Again his head turned to her and stared into her perplexed gaze.

  Cale realized that was an understandable fear. Many captives had returned only to face the same fate. But this woman was beautiful, why would anyone turn her away.

  "Why wouldn't he? You are beautiful."

  The girl blushed at the compliment, and considered Cale for a moment.

  "I cannot expect you to understand. But I've worked in the hot sun for hours, my skin is tougher now. I've dug in the earth until my fingers bled. I've been beaten repeatedly until there were scars…" She cried, and fell down onto the ground to weep.

  "Don't cry," He reached down to take her hand in his. "I know you've been through more than I can imagine. But you are still a beautiful woman, and I expect a much stronger woman than you were."

  She shook her head. "I've been living with Indians for four years now. He might consider me nothing more than a white squaw." She protested moving away from him for a moment and staring into his face. "Wouldn't you?"

  "No ma'am. You're a woman, a beautiful woman." HE smiled at her.

  She looked away from him. "No one will see me the way they used to."

  "It's possible I guess." Cale considered her words. "Don't you want to go home?"

  Obviously she heard the disbelief in his voice and she shrugged.

  "I'm apprehensive of going back now. I've been gone so long. I know I will not be well received there. I cannot, I’m not the same person now. However, I suppose that is where I belong. I don't know. I'm afraid I've adjusted to their way of living so long. It's hard to leave them. It wasn't hard to leave the Comanche's. They were so harsh." Amelia voice cracked.

  "Iron Kettle is good people."

  She stared at him a moment. "What exactly do you do for a living?"

  He smiled openly now. "I'm a farmer."

  "A farmer? But…I thought you must be a scout or something for the army. What are you doing here?"

  Cale sighed as he stared out at the river. "Iron Kettle is our friend. We came to trade; it's been a hard summer with no rain."

  She nodded. "I know, the food is scarce here too."

  "Look, I didn't expect to run into you. I kind of thought you might be dead by now." He stammered to say.

  "You knew about me before you came here?” She gasped.

  "I saw a picture of you in the General store. You’re fella must have put it there."

  "Oh. I see. Well, my folks at home won't be expecting me either. In fact, there is no one to go back to but Bertram. I mean, I have cousins, but…"

  "Bertram?"

  "My betrothed." She blushed. "It sounds so strange calling him that. It's been too long."

  "Well then, I’ll bet you are you anxious to see him?" Cale asked her.

  "Apprehensive, more than anything." She admitted. When he frowned, she tried to explain. "It's been gone a long time. I've changed since he knew me. Anyone that knew me before would know that. And I've been with the Indians for some time now. My entire life is different, in every way. I can't imagine going back to my own people as you call them. My people are the Huaco's."

  Cale wanted to smile, but the look of confusion and torment on her face stopped him.

  "Well obviously he's missed you or he wouldn't have put up the sign on you." Cale reasoned. "And if you'll excuse me for saying so, your real people are your fiancé and cousins."

  "Are they?" She queried. "Bertram would put up a sign anyway. He's a gentleman, and he'd do what is expected of him. Besides, after all this time, I'm sure he figures I'm dead. Or should be. It's been four years. I'm just not sure of my reception. But if he doesn't want me…what shall I do? Others will think the same way. I'll be an outcast. How can I ever fit in again?" She asked perplexed.

  "Let's not worry about that. If he loves you, he will be happy you are back. And if you don't want to stay, I won't make you. But I do think you should give them a chance."

  "I don't know…I just don't know…" She cried. "I thought I belonged here, with Iron Kettle and his people. I never thought I belonged with the Comanche. They were so cruel, and expected so much of me. I did good to survive. They…they didn't take me, you see. I had a choice; I could be a wife of the chief's son, or a slave. I chose to be a slave. Because I chose to be a slave, they were twice as hard on me, expecting me to do things I couldn't possibly do. They beat me because I could not do them at first. But I learned. And when I came here, they treated me like a person. I've not slept with an Indian but do you honestly think anyone would believe me?" She cried.

  "I would." Cale insisted.

  "If you loved me, I doubt you would believe it."

  "Especially if I loved you…" Cale said in a whispered voice.

  The woman stared at him a long time. Obviously, she found Cale strange.

  Cale knew he wasn't a handsome man. He was plain, and women didn't usually look at him as a gentleman caller. It was always as just a friend.

  It wasn't that he was ugly, but he accepted that he was plain and not a polished man.

  Even though this woman treated him like any other man, she did look at him, as a man. That stunned him a little. Most women took little notice of him.

  "So with the Comanche's you remained a slave?"

  "Yes. The chief's son was insulted that I did not want to marry him. He was quite hateful to me, and his wives were too. So, instead, I learned to work very hard to please them. And I got these calluses on my hands from doing so. Another thing…my betrothed could never accept that I've been beaten by the Comanche's. I have scars on my back. Ugly scars. No man would want to look at that. My feet have been bare most of the time. They are not dainty and pretty, but scared to
o."

  "Scars don't make a person." Cale said softly.

  Again, her head turned and she stared at Cale strangely.

  "You see things a little differently than most, Mr. Matthews. Either that or you are trying to be kind."

  "Call me Cale ma'am. I’m a simple man. I try to see things as they are."

  "Cale…that's an unusual name. Is it short for Caleb?"

  "No ma'am, it's just Cale."

  She turned her head a bit and studied him a moment. "Now you understand a little about me. So you see, I've changed, a lot since I was with my family. Back then, I was spoiled and everyone did for me. It doesn't feel right, going back to them now. I'm sorry, it doesn't feel right. I’m no longer used to anyone waiting on me. I do for myself now. I’d say the Indians humbled me to a great extent."

  "I can understand that, yes ma'am. It must have been hard…since…they didn't take you as a squaw?"

  "Yes, at first it was grueling. At first, they beat me, when I didn't work hard enough, or long enough. They laughed at me. Spit on me. Made me go so hungry that when they finally fed me, I ate like a dog. It was not a pretty sight. My folks would be the first to say so. So, I worked doubly hard as their slave. I worked so hard I thought I might die, at first. I wanted to die then. However, when I didn’t, I realized that hard work was good for me. It made me stronger. But, I was their slave. A good slave, but a slave. It took months for the women to speak to me. And they laughed at me most of the time. Yet the harder I learned to work, the less they laughed. Finally, they began to let me alone, because I finally became a good slave. I was actually proud of myself. I was afraid every day I was in their camp. Afraid they'd torture me and not kill me."

  Cale sighed heavily, and shook his head. "That's remarkable. I'm truly surprised you survived with the Comanche. Not many women do. I've seen how they treat their slaves, and I'm shocked you survived that. Especially since you were much different back then."

  "Funny thing was, they didn't want to trade me off for food to the Huaco's, I was a good slave. But they were starving. They had no choice. I was never accepted into their camp though. I never felt anything but misery with them. And when they finally traded me, I was afraid the Huaco's would be just as cruel, but they weren't."